The Boy from the Woods
by Catching Rayne
Summary: We all know the story of the tributes Katniss and Peeta. The Girl on Fire. The Boy with the Bread. But the male tribute of District 12 was not Peeta Mellark... It was Gale Hawthorne- The Boy from the Woods. Not necessarily KxG; Depends On Reviews


The Boy from the Woods

Prologue

"Primrose Everdeen."

I froze.

The crowd was muttering sadly, but I couldn't comprehend a single thing. All I could see was the tiny little slip in Effie's hand. The single piece of paper that damned Prim's short little life. The written sentence that put all of my effort- all of those hard, painful hours of hunting and worrying- to waste. I tried _so_ hard to keep my baby sister alive and as happy as she could be. And it came down to _nothing...._

A frightening lurch in my stomach awakened me from my stupor. I watched as Prim passed me, her little steps carrying her up to the stage... The stage where her name had been selected as tribute.

Before I was conscious of my actions, I had screamed.

"_No!_ Not Prim!"

The kids around me were looking at me oddly, as if I was a lunatic. I dismissed them immediately. What did they matter when my only sibling had just been chosen?

I dashed as fast as my legs would carry me to where Prim stood, watching me with tear-filled eyes. I scooped her into my arms, holding onto her tightly.

"I volunteer! Let me be the tribute!"

Prim thrashed wildly in my arms, but my grip wouldn't loosen. She was shouting hysterically.

"Katniss! Don't you dare- You can't go- I swear to god, say one more word and I'll-!"

"Shush Prim, keep quiet..."

I could feel her body tremble with sobs, and she clutched her thin arms around my neck. "...Hate them, they're absolutely horrible..." She was murmuring wildly, so I rubbed soothing circles on her back. The last thing we needed was for her to be overheard by the cameras. I was trying to figure out what was going on. I still felt dazed- as if in a dream.

Effie squealed with excitement, clapping her hands (which did nothing to help her wig stay in place), and chastised me teasingly.

"Ooh! You were suppose to wait until she was up here, I think, and then- err... Um.. Oh well, I suppose you were just too caught up in the excitement, eh? Well come on up now, let's get you up here so you can introduce yourself!"

A strong, calloused hand gripped my shoulder. I turned my head to see Gale, pale and shaky. I attempted a weak, awkward smile, feeling obligated to cheer him up. It didn't work.

"Catnip, please don't do this..."

His voice was low and nearly inaudible. I don't think I was even suppose to hear it; but I did. He cleared his throat loudly, and with a look of someone try to compose them self, tried to speak in a steady voice.

"Well, up ya' go, Kat..."

Holding open his arms, he offered to take Prim. I squeezed her tightly one last time, and pried her skinny, pale arms from around me. "Don't worry, Prim..." I whispered consolingly into her ear as I passed her to Gale.

"Hurry _up_, _up_, _up_ now! Don't want to keep the audience waiting now, do we? I'm sure they're all very excited!" Effie just wouldn't shut up.

I spared a glance to see just how true that was. People, particularly the ones I sold game to and spoke with occasionally, looked gloomy and solemn. Only a few of the teenagers looked completely relieved, and even they shifted uncomfortably. The mayor looked upset, though that didn't surprise me much. He probably heard his daughter, Madge, talk about me once and awhile. The sole exceptions were Effie, the odd people from the Capitol, and maybe Haymitch- but he didn't count, considering he's too drunk to harbor any sympathy.

I paused on my journey to the stage, just for a second. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. _Everything will be alright in the end..._ _Prim will be fine, and that's what matters._ I felt my face visibly relax, emotion being swept off, leaving a calm mask in it's wake.

Opening my eyes, I walked straight up the steps, onto the stage. I didn't bother to wait for Effie to ask me my name, I've got no patience for her stupid accent and pointless babble. My toleration of her only stretches so far.

"My name's Katniss Everdeen."

"Lovely, just _lovely_! I'd bet my button that was your sis-"

_"Yes_, Effie, that was my baby sister. What was your first clue?"

My voice was snappy and sardonic, and though I knew I should be more polite, I couldn't resist rolling my eyes.

"Why, your last names, silly!" Effie tinkled shrilly, apparently not noting my insolence or simply not caring. "Didn't want her to steal all the glory now, did we? _That's_ the spirit of the Games! Come on everybody, let's give her a round of applause!"

I felt a flicker of surprise and, dare I say it, _hope_ as not a single person attempted to clap. Instead, to my utter shock, every last person touched their fingers to their lips and held it out to me.

The silence rung on. Pride swelled up in me as I realized that my District was participating in the boldest descent they could manage. _Silence._

I removed my mask of indifference for a brief second. A bright, thankful smile was slipping onto my lips. I could feel myself beaming at the whole of District 12. A small, subconscious voice inside myself warned me of the dangers. All 23 other tributes would see this. They might interpret this friendly gesture as a sign of vulnerability... But for some reason, I didn't care. Even if this was totally out of character, I felt grateful and _relieved_ at the thought of this slightly rebellious attitude;

They did not agree with the Capitol. They did not condone. All of this was _wrong._

"Look at her! Look at this one!"

A chubby, smelly arm was tossed around my neck, and I was pulled roughly into a grubby, not to mention _smelly_, shirt.

Of course, Haymitch had to ruin the moment.

"I like her!" he declared loudly...Glad to have his approval. (Note the sarcastic tone.)

"Lots of.... _spunk!_ I like it!" he repeats. He shoved me out of the one-armed (and one-sided) hug. Stumbling to the end of the stage, he crudely pointed his finger- was he going to flip them off?- out into the crowd, directly into a camera lens. "More than _you_!" His accusations didn't get very far, because he suddenly tumbled off the stage, crumbled in heap on the Square.

I suppressed a grin, and settled for snorting quietly, feeling oddly amused. When did I become so, for lack of better term, _cheery_? At least I wasn't crying.

Effie looked totally taken back. This obviously wasn't written in her script. Trying to discreetly straighten her hideous wig, she made her way to the remaining glass ball.

"How _charming..." _Effie lied in a disdainful tone. "But even more excitement is to come! Let's chose the boy tribute!"

Her hand plunged into the ball before I had the chance to pray for anyone's safety. Yanking out a slip, she scrambles to the podium.

The name that she read in her fake perky voice took my breath away. My barely remaining hope, every remotely positive emotion, was torn away viciously in one great swipe.

Effie took a deep breath, trying to regain order, and called in a clear voice the name that was sure to be my downfall in these horrible Games.

"..._Gale Hawthorne_."

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So? What did you think? Be sure to review and tell me if you want Peeta in this story, and exactly how you want the relationships to be. This is going to be a democracy decision, so the majority will win. The Prologue was just to get the ball rolling. The real fun will start after this.


End file.
